


Some Good Tender Lovin’

by Frosted-Soil (Jackson_Overland_Frost)



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Choking, Communication, Consensual Violence, Dom Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Dom/sub, Gay Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Gloves, Kink Negotiation, Knifeplay, M/M, Masochism, No plot about 1/2 porn, Rope Bondage, Sadism, Smut, Sub Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Touch-Averse Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26653036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackson_Overland_Frost/pseuds/Frosted-Soil
Summary: In which Alastor is touch-averse, Angel is horny all the time, and they figure out a solution of their own.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 157





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [How to take care of your Allosexual](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15341022) by [Ghoulboyboos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghoulboyboos/pseuds/Ghoulboyboos). 



> Disclaimer: I am not personally sex-repulsed nor touch-averse, this was just an idea that got stuck in my head and wouldn’t leave. It’s not necessarily meant to be realistic (via they’re demons in hell with magic, etc) but if anything I’ve portrayed here is harmful then do let me know so that I can change it. Obviously though, everyone is different.

Angel Dust closed the door of Alastor’s hotel suite behind him, letting himself into the space. Though their rooms were still technically separate, and he honestly didn’t think they could fit both their lifestyles into the same set of rooms if they  _ tried _ , part of their relationship was making space for the other in their own lives. Now, walking into Alastor’s suite felt almost as comfortable as walking into his own. 

“Smiles, I’m here,” Angel called, the room seeming relatively empty at the moment. He hung his bag on a hook near the door, so that he would remember to take it when he left. “Where’re you at?” 

“I’m in the bedroom, my dear,” came the muffled answer. “Come join me if you wish?”

The door was closed, and inside, Alastor was reclined against the headboard of the bed with Angel’s laptop balanced across his thighs. Though Angel had forcefully introduced him to modern technology, the radio demon had never saw fit to acquire any of his own, and opted to just steal — sorry,  _ borrow _ — all of Angel’s things whenever he felt like it. Upon noticing Angel in the doorway, Alastor scooted over in order to leave room for his partner on the bed. 

“Heya Al, whatcha watchin’?” He asked, hopping up onto the bed. Like habit, Angel left space between them until Alastor reached over to wrap an arm around his waist, at which point he snuggled in closer to Alastor’s side. 

The video onscreen paused, and Alastor hovered the pointer over the tabs. “Just a few of your old movies, my dear~” he said cheerfully. 

A closer look at the screen revealed Angel himself with a blissed out expression on his face and seemingly mid-moan. He was kneeling on a bed, fingers clenched in the sheets as he was fucked from behind, and though he had a partner it was obvious that Angel was the focus of the scene. 

“Why are ya watchin’ that?” Angel asked, raising an eyebrow. “Ya usually hate that kinda thing.”

“Just curious as to why others seem to enjoy it, mon ange.” Alastor gestured to the screen. “After all, you certainly seem to be having quite a good time.”

Angel groaned. “Oh man, don’t make me look at that. I hate watchin’ my old videos, my voice sounds so weird played back. And I was shit at followin’ the script — still am.”

“Hmm,” Alastor hummed. He unpaused the video, but turned the volume almost all the way down so that they could continue talking to each other. “So these are scripted then? I had suspected, but it’s nice to have some confirmation.”

“Yeah, but sometimes it makes ya say the dumbest shit. It ain’t realistic, just meant ta get folks off, but it’s still weird in tha moment.”

“Well then, I suppose I must ask. Do you actually enjoy…  _ this _ ?” Alastor turned back to the screen, where Angel was still gasping and crying out with every thrust of his partner, eyes shiny and half lidded. On the bed with two of his arms wrapped around Alastor, the present Angel winced. 

“Ya mean sex in general, or this scene in particular?” Angel asked. “‘Cus I feel like those’re both pretty self explanatory.”

In a show of perfect timing, the Angel Dust on screen lurched forward with a tinny sounding moan and came all over the bedspread, as his partner thrust particularly deep. Alastor’s static spiked, and he paused the video with a sigh, switching over to an empty tab. 

“I admit that today was perhaps not the best time to do this sort of research, but it  _ is _ something I have been meaning to do for a while,” Alastor said. “My comfort with… such displays does fluctuate quite a bit, so I believe I will put this off to tomorrow, perhaps.”

“Well I gotta question for ya, smiles — why.  _ Why _ are ya lookin’ through this stuff? I know it makes ya uncomfortable mosta the time, thas pretty obvious.”

“I’ve simply been considering something. An activity that will please us both, or so to speak.” Alastor waved a hand through the air as he spoke. “I know that I cannot traditionally satisfy your more… carnal urges—”

“And I’ve told you before, ya don’t have ta have sex wit’ me ta keep me. Sex is swell an’ all, but I can pretty much get that anywhere I want — if I threw a rock out this window with a price and a proposition on it, some jon would come crawling through it inna heartbeat.” Angel sighed, idly combing through a bit of Alastor’s hair. “I can’t get  _ you _ nowhere but here, so don’cha go thinkin’ you hafta do something ya don’t like for me.” Alastor removed Angel’s hand from his hair gently, and Angel settled it silently on the bed next to his partner’s thigh instead with a soft smile. 

“No, no,” Alastor reassured, patting his hand. “I do not intend on doing anything of the sort. However, there were a few things that you seemed to enjoy which I believe I might be interested in as well — though now that I know for certain that these are scripted, I must urge you to be completely honest about your thoughts.” 

Alastor quickly went through his history and pulled up a different video, also featuring Angel Dust. This time, it was a shoot that Angel actually remembered — a horned demon in a neatly pressed military uniform held a black crop in one hand while Angel hung suspended and wrapped artfully in silky black rope from the ceiling. The site opened to halfway through the video, so Angel already looked relatively debauched, limp and panting and eyes glazed over. There was a pretty contrast in the scene — the darkly uniformed demon, perfectly put together other than the visible bulge in his pants, and Angel with his pink and white fur, just about falling apart. 

“Oh, this,” Angel said, leaning forward. “This was a fun shoot. I think they took out the check-ins an’ stuff in the final cut, but Harrin’s pretty cool.”

“He doesn’t undress, nor does he touch you in any sexual manner,” Alastor commented, brow quirking. “And it was still a, quote unquote, ‘fun shoot’?”

“Yeah, I’mma masochist,” he answered. “What, you’re interested?” He tried to stay casual, keeping the instinctual sultriness out of his voice, but he couldn’t help but let it leak through a little bit. 

Thankfully, Alastor only laughed. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “Occasionally, and with gloves. I admit, I am not at all adverse to the idea of seeing you screaming and writhing from my actions, it is only the question of what those actions may be. Obviously I would prefer not to kill you, my dear.”

“Wait, lemme—” a lightbulb went off in Angel’s head, and he reached for the laptop with a grin. “I dunno if you saw this one, but I didn’t film it too long ago,” he said, opening another tab. 

The film opened on Angel Dust, of course, dressed down in a black camisole and a short pink skirt, as “Harrin” came into the room, this time in a full three-piece suit. The present Angel sighed and skipped forward in increments, past the obligatory showy stripping, a foot massage, and a blowjob. In this particular video, Angel had a vulva rather than a dick, and Alastor pointed it out curiously. 

“Oh, I can change it whenever I want,” Angel told him. “Pretty useful in the sex industry. Durin’ films like this Val or the director’ll choose for me, an’ I don’t usually have a preference, so it works out. Depending on the video sometimes I’ll have both — I guess some folks’re inta that? Kay, here we go. Found it.” 

Onscreen, Angel was laying face down and flat to the bed, one pair of hands wrapped around the headboard and the other holding onto his thighs. Harrin was straddling him, still in a rumpled white button-up but otherwise naked, wielding a sharp knife in one hand and pinning Angel to the bed with the other. When he shifted, it became clear that his dick was actually buried in Angel already, also keeping the other demon from moving too much. As they watched, Harrin carefully dragged the blade across the skin of Angel’s shoulder, and blood beaded up as soon as he took it away, soaking into the fur and staining it red. Angel hissed, sinking into the mattress further with a shiver. 

“Is that what you enjoy?” Alastor asked, taking a closer look at the scene. He had not, in fact, seen this one yet, and the amount of time in the video before it got to this part quite explained why. “It seems… painful.”

“Masochist, tha’s me.” Angel snickered. “Though the dick certainly helped out, here. With this or anythin’ more intense I prefer to have a vibe or plug or  _ somethin’ _ going on down there, but I could probably still get it up without.” 

“How much more intense?” 

He shrugged. “There’s a range a’ shit I’m willin’ to do, so ya gonna hafta clarify. Regular jon, on personal request from Val, or for you?” 

Alastor thought for a moment. “All of those. I’m simply curious.” 

“Knife shit’s far as I’ll go for regular street work — anythin’ more ‘an that and I’ll scram. That’s mostly because I don’t know how good at it they’ll be though, since sometimes newbies try an’ get into the hardcore shit right away. Val’s had me cut open once or twice for a shoot before, but that shit’s expensive so I can’t show you, even with my VIP access.” Angel made a face. “It’s fun enough, but the studio’s aftercare is shit unless you get put with an actually decent dom, so I was outta commission for a solid few weeks afterwards. For you though, honestly anything’s game. Ya could prolly broadcast yourself exterminatin’ me with angelic weapons and I’d still manage ta get it up.”

“I would never do that!” Alastor looked astounded by the idea, so much so that his smile dropped. “My dear, you must never think that I would hurt you like that, let alone permanently.” 

“Yeah yeah, I know,” Angel said, leaning into Alastor a little bit more. “Just sayin’.”

“So this is… something you would be open too?” Alastor ventured. “Or — no, let me rephrase that. Is this something that would bring you pleasure and that you would actively enjoy if I were to do it to you?” 

“Uhh, yeah babe. I actively enjoy most a’ the things ya do,” Angel said. “Feel like I should be askin’ you that question, smiles. Ya realize this would be like… an innately sexual experience for me, right? I don’ wanna make ya uncomfortable ya know.”

“Yes,” Alastor agreed patiently. “That is rather the point, mon ange. But this is something that I would be able to do for you, without having to get messy myself, while still being able to bring you some amount of pleasure. And the… bloodplay? Is rather intriguing to me, as well.” 

-=-=-=-

“Mon ange?” Alastor said, knocking on Angel’s door. It was both of their days off, but they had gone separate ways to engage in their own chosen hobbies (masturbation and murder, respectively) earlier that evening. “Are you decent?” 

“Gimme a second!” Came the call from inside, and in a couple moments Angel was at the door, dressed in dark gray shorts and a cropped pink sweater. “Heya smiles, come on in. What’s up?” 

Alastor cleared some of Angel’s clothes off a chair before sitting down, his partner plopping down on the bed instead. “I have been thinking at length about our discussion yesterday,” he said, gloved hands resting neatly in his lap. “I’ve come up with some rules, and I thought that perhaps we should talk about it before I did anymore research. And of course you can add whatever you like?” 

“Yeah sure, that sounds fine,” Angel said. “Where’re we at righ’ now, by the way?” 

“Rather uncomfortable with anything at all, which I thought made this a perfect time to discuss limits and boundaries!” He shot Angel a cheerful grin. “That being said, I would prefer to not have any physical contact at present.”

“Kay, sounds good.” Angel tilted his head. “You wanna go first then? Seems like you had something in mind.” 

“Right! Just some clarifications, my dear,” Alastor said, shifting slightly. “So you’re likely aware of this, perhaps more so than I am, but I like to make sure that we are on the same page. You can nod or shake your head.” 

An order. Angel nodded. 

“I will be the dominant part of our arrangement, as that will allow me to decide what we are doing and adjust that to what I am comfortable with. That means you are the submissive part, and are in charge of saying yes or no to things. You will have to be completely honest about that, understood?” 

The way Alastor spoke and held himself made Angel fall into place, one pair of arms locked behind his back and the other flat on his thighs. He straightened unconsciously while Alastor spoke, and gave another nod. Alastor‘s smile turned approving. 

“Good. This is also a generally understood thing between us, but do not touch me during a scene without direct spoken permission. If you are having or are going to have a difficult time with this rule, then please tell me so that I can either give you permission or restrain you.” Alastor paused for a moment for Angel to nod again before continuing. “My goal during a scene is to bring you pleasure, and I won’t be able to do that if I am uncomfortable.”

“Next is safewords. Since I expect I am going to be hurting you, perhaps quite badly, we will need to put safewords in place. It will have to be something that neither of us would usually say during a scene, so considering the color of blood and so on I suspect that the traffic light system that others seem to be fond of will not work with us. Do you have any suggestions? You may speak.” 

After a moment of thought, Angel answered. “At the studio, we used colored cards so that people behind the camera could communicate with the actors without interruptin’ the shot too much. Maybe we can use ‘yellow card’ for slow down and ‘red card’ for a hard stop? ’S less confusin’ but still easy enough ta remember.” 

“Yes, that will work quite well,” Alastor agreed. “I know that some people ignore words like ‘no’ and ‘stop’ in scenes because they believe it makes them more immersed. Since we have safewords in place and I will be inflicting you with pain, would you like me to do something similar?” 

Angel nodded eagerly.

“Alright. If you yellow card, I will check in with you and our activities will pause until you tell me what you want to be changed. If you red card, activities will stop and not resume. If there are any restraints on you I will remove them, and if you have any wounds I will treat them. If I am ever about to do something to you that you do not think you will enjoy, yellow card. I am not Valentino, and I will not force you to do anything that you do not enjoy — this is  _ for _ enjoyment, this is not your job. Do you have any questions? You may speak.” 

“Not really, it seems mostly standard,” Angel replied with a shake of his head. “What about you though? Where’re you gettin’ enjoyment from this?” 

Alastor shook his head, playing a short laugh track alongside his real laugh. “I adore you, my dear, my angel. Seeing you happy brings me enjoyment as well. And I believe I have wanted to take a knife or two to you since the day we met,” he waved a hand through the air. “Besides, my comfort levels do vary. Perhaps some day you will be able to convince me to join in, haha!” 

The two set a time and place, and by the time Alastor left to retire to his own room, Angel could hardly wait for his next day off. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this, but don’t do any of the activities described in this chapter? None of this is remotely safe, and you don’t have magic demon speed-healing, nor magic. It’s not supposed to be realistic, it’s frankly not even written to get you off, I’m just exploring some possible dynamics between these particular iterations of The Boys, so like. Don’t come at me?

After some deliberation, Angel settled on having a dick for the night, mostly for the sake of having a prostate as well without things getting too crowded down there. Before heading over to Alastor’s room, he carefully opened himself up enough to fit a plug in his ass — one of the nice, remote-controlled vibrating ones that nudged directly into his prostate. Angel sort of intentionally worked himself up as he did so, edging himself a few times before slipping a skirt on. 

Usually for clients, or even for a shoot, Angel would use his nice conditioner and perfume, dress up in the nice clothes that Valentino was so fond of gifting him. For the upcoming scene with Alastor, Angel forwent all of that, instead leaning on his knowledge of what his partner liked. Nothing too sweet, just a spritz of something floral on the wooden comb that he then used to comb through his fur. He didn’t put on anything that he was too fond of either, on the off chance that Alastor would decide to take a knife to his outfit before getting to the meat underneath.

A shadow darted down the hallway as Angel exited his room, and Alastor’s door opened before he even raised a hand to knock. The first thing he noticed as he was met with a grin and pulled inside was that Alastor was rather touchy today, initiating contact without hesitation. The second was that his partner’s gloves were just a tad thicker than usual. 

Alastor pulled him to the center of the room, underneath the supporting beams that had no business being there, and certainly hadn’t been present the last time Angel had visited. He idly wondered how much preparation Alastor had put into the scene before his thoughts were interrupted. 

“Kneel, my dear,” Alastor said, hands already on Angel’s shoulders and pushing him down. “Neatly. Right here will do.” Angel went easily, dropping into place, and Alastor moved him so that he was sitting back on his heels, legs folded beneath him. This took over half his height off of him, and suddenly he was looking up at Alastor instead of down. 

“Very good,” Angel was rewarded, and it sparked something warm inside of him. Said spark turned hot when he was reminded of the plug nestled inside of him whenever he shifted position even slightly. “Now, hold your arms out in front of you for me — only the top pair, darling.” 

Seemingly from nowhere, Alastor pulled out a length of dark red rope, wrapping it around Angel’s wrists before tying a knot with practiced fingers. 

“This how ya normally string up your prey, Al?” Angel teased, and Alastor huffed out a breath. 

“Hush now, mon ange. No, not usually quite this prettily, but I do like to treat you a bit better than I do my meals.” Alastor tied a few more knots up Angel’s forearms and around his neck before tossing the ends of the rope upwards. His shadow caught it and looped it around one of the ceiling beams a few times before letting it back down. A strong tug brought Angel a few inches off of his heels, top pair of arms arched above his head and a strain on the base of his neck. If Angel were to stop pulling on the rope with his arms and relaxed, the rope would cut off his air supply. 

Alastor looked him over with a critical eye, and then toed his knees apart with his boot, making it impossible for Angel to completely hold himself up without putting strain on the ropes. 

“Keep those there. Now, other arms, behind you please,” Alastor ordered, and Angel put his second pair of arms behind him, wrists together, and the remote to his vibrator clutched in his fingers. He felt the rope go around them, and then fall slack as Alastor pried the remote out of his grasp. Angel held his breath as there was a tangible pause, and then the rope tightened and pulled his arms up until his wrists were crossed behind his waist. 

Then, the vibrator turned on. 

Angel gasped, jerking forward at the sudden stimulation, and lost balance, the ropes around his neck choking him harshly for a moment before he pulled back coughing. “ _ Fuck, _ ” he wheezed out, and he felt his dick twitch as it quickly gained interest in the proceedings. 

“Beautiful,” Alastor said, coming back into his line of sight with a wide smile. “Were you perhaps hoping to surprise me with this? It’s a useful little thing.” 

The vibration increased, and Angel moaned around a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut. It wasn’t enough to make him cum, or even enough to completely enrapture him, but it nudged and prodded his prostate too nicely to ignore. 

“Ah, you are so gorgeous like this, mon ange. Though I’m rather unsurprised at the thought — you are beautiful all the time. Shame that I will need you to be staying still for his next part.” And with that, Alastor pulled out a knife with a black handle from seemingly nowhere, the sharpened blade glinting with the red light coming from Alastor’s eyes. 

At the sight, Angel made a muffled noise that had nothing to do with the vibrator, but instead the sudden shot of arousal stemming from Alastor’s sudden look of excitement. More so as the vibrations were toned down, until they were just repeatedly reminding Angel that they were there, more than anything else. Though he knew it wasn’t actually lust or arousal or anything along those lines, the idea that Alastor was excited to do  _ anything _ to him sent a shiver down his spine. 

Stepping forward, Alastor took hold of Angel’s collar, and carefully cut long lines down the cloth until strips of fabric pooled at their feet. Smile widening, Alastor pushed the blunt edge of the blade against Angel’s neck, only to hear his breathing stiffen. He laughed at the reaction, and turned the knife to press the thinnest of cuts into the delicate skin, blood quickly dying the white fur to red. It would vanish in a few minutes, completely healed, but it was the thought that counted. 

“How are we feeling, Angel dearest?” Alastor asked, stepping out of Angel’s line of sight. The cold shock of the knife against his now-bare shoulder made him flinch forward, almost choking himself again. 

“I’m good, al— um, sir?” Angel ventured, relaxing back into the cool touch of the blade against his back. “Horny, but ya know. When am I not.” 

“You can just call me by my name, mon cher.”

“Alastor, then,” Angel said. “What about you?” 

“I am doing quite nicely! Much thanks for asking.” Alastor’s hand appeared on his upper back, just between his shoulder blades, and gave him a shove, sending Angel pitching forward. There was a scramble as he tugged on his bonds and let out a strangled gasp, legs shifting, before Angel managed to pull himself upright again, face burning hot under his fur. Alastor was laughing. “Haha! My mistake, my dear. Now, if you are quite settled, we may begin?”

Angel coughed again. “Fucking geez, so that’s what kinda sadist ya are. Sure, let’s get into it. 

-=-=-=-

Alastor cut a long line down Angel’s back, a throbbing line of blood and pain from his shoulder to his waist. Then the touch of the knife lightened, and the blade sliced neatly through his skirt, leaving Angel completely naked. There was the slightest pressure against the plug buried in his ass, and then he faintly heard the brush of fabric right next to his ear, before Alastor’s gloves dropped to the ground. 

“Oh—” Angel said, a gasp of surprise, and then a cry as Alastor’s bare fingers dug into the fresh wound, clawing at the open flesh and tearing it open further. It was a burning beacon of pain on his back, barely balanced out as the vibrations increased in power at the same time. His hand dragged through the rest of the line, pressing into the cut and setting Angel’s nerves on fire.

“How are we feeling, my dear?” Alastor asked, wiping the blood off his hands and onto Angel’s shoulder. He could just about see the matted red marks out of the corner of his eye. 

“Fuck, fucking —  _ shit _ ,” Angel cursed, panting. “Ow, god fucking — please, Alastor,” his chest heaved, and he tried not to squirm away from the inferno on his back, knowing that if he did so the rope around his neck would tighten once more. The pearl of precum at the tip of his cock increased, and then dripped down the side of his shaft. 

“Is that a card perhaps, mon ange?” Alastor came back into view, knife dripping blood onto the floor. He swiped a finger across the blade, almost absent-mindedly, and licked the blood of his finger with a grin. 

“Nono, it’s —  _ hah _ — it’s good.  _ Really _ good. Please keep goin’.” 

“Of course, my dear~” Alastor twisted the knife in his hands, thick static coating his voice. “Just one more. Your torso is very narrow, you know.” 

Angel exhaled, breathing through the pain, letting it bleed into pleasure where he could and ignoring it where he couldn’t. Alastor’s knife was pressing into his back again on the other side of his spine, and when he blinked there were tears in the corners of his eyes. He moaned, the vibrations heightening and his hips jerking forward without his permission. A hand appeared on his shoulder to steady him before he could lose his balance again, and Angel sighed gratefully. 

“Very good,” Alastor said, voice low. “You’re so lovely like this, my dear.” He pressed two fingers against the newly-exposed muscle, and his nails scratched against Angel’s raw flesh. “Of course, you’re lovely all the time. I do so adore you, my lovely Angel.” 

“Fuck, Al,” Angel managed, and with that, he was coming in white spurts across the floor. 

-=-=-=-

Alastor didn’t put on another pair of gloves until the cuts on Angel’s back had been treated and bandaged, and he had been set on the couch with a blanket and a mug of overly sweet coffee. Even then, it was a thinner pair than he had been wearing before. 

“The blood helps,” he explained, as his shadow meticulously cleaned the floor. Alastor himself sat on the sofa with Angel in his arms, the layers of blankets in between their bodies lending him the means to do so. While he technically  _ could  _ heal Angel’s wounds with a burst of magic, he couldn’t exactly remove the effects of blood loss, or even heal them as well as they otherwise would have given time. His powers were shaped for destruction, after all — not tenderness. 

“It does stain fabric horribly if ya don’t get it out right away,” Angel said, with the confidence of someone who knew from experience and had been personally victimized by the fact. Alastor laughed. 

“Haha! I suppose it would, if I was unable to expel it from any white shirts I may own with a flick of my wrist,” he said gleefully. “And if ever, perhaps, one of your articles of clothing is ruined in a fight—” 

“You’re the first one I’ll go to,” Angel confirmed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated!! I’m fairly certain this is my first time posting smut of any kind, so I’d appreciate some feedback :)

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was inspired by How to Take Care of Your Allosexual by Ghoulboyboos so if there are some similarities there you go! I tried to put my own spin on the idea as much as I could, especially in the second part, but apologies if some sections are familiar.


End file.
